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“Eww.” She wrinkles her nose. “Not the three-way thing. No judgment there. But assuming someone’s job indicates they want to be any random couple’s third-wheel fuck toy is super gross.”
Dear God, the way this woman’s mind works is incredible. The things that come out of her mouth…
“Let me be clear.” Her voice sharpens and she drills me with those intense hazel eyes. “I’mnot interested in three-ways. I don’t share.” Her gaze softens. “You’re already a lot to handle. I couldn’t stand any distractions.”
I’m a guy, so I can’t help my mind wanderingthere. But the reality of it holds no appeal. I sift my fingers through her silky hair. “Glad to hear it,” I finally say.
“We get others coming in to party with their friends,” I continue. “Even had a whole bachelorette party a few weeks ago.” None of that changes the stubborn set of her mouth. “But I don’t want to talk you into visiting me there if you’re not comfortable.”
“Huh.” A crease forms between her eyes, like she’s considering my offer. “You really wouldn’t mind?”
“No. You can hang with Willow at the bar if I’m needed somewhere. You’ll like her. She’s worked for us forever.”
“Okay. Maybe after work one night when Libby’s busy with rehearsal, I’ll stop by.”
“Good.” I want her to understand I have nothing to hide. She can show up unannounced and she’s never going to find me fucking around behind her back. It just wouldn’t happen. That’s not who I am.
“I’d say you could visitmeat work,” she laughs, “but you’d be bored to tears watching me test water samples all day long.”
“I wouldn’t mind picking you up sometimes.”All the time. Every damn day.
No. Don’t want to overwhelm her.
She ducks her head, but I catch a smile playing over her lips. “But then you’d have to get up early to drop me off.”
“I’d like that.” It’d be even easier if I was waking up next to her every day.
Donotsay that. It’s way too soon.
“I don’t know. Some days, I might tap you on the shoulder and tell you to keep riding into the sunset.”
I lean in closer. “I’d like that too. Any time you want to escape, I’m your man.”
Emily
I’m your man.
The way Dex says it sounds like so much more than offering a getaway ride.
Am I stupid for believing everything he said about his job? He did admit to having…relationships. He could’ve easily lied. It’s not like I’m going to run around questioning everyone in his life to get an accurate count of how many women he’s slept with.
“How did you end up as the protector of strippers?” I ask.
He frowns for a second. As if he thought we were done and moving on from this conversation. “I told you the short version. You want the long one?”
“You inherited the job from your former vice president. And lots of motorcycle clubs own strip clubs. That’s the short version?”
“Yeah,” he says slowly.
There’s something honorable about the way he talks about his job. There has to be more to it. “What’s the longer version?”
His jaw shifts to the side and he stares straight ahead for a few seconds. Did I go one question too far?
“My mom danced when I was a kid.”
Horror washes over me. “Not atyourclub?”
“No. Fuck no.” He turns and scowls at me. “I didn’t move to this area until I was older. She had me young. Father split. Her parents threw her out.” He shrugs. “She supported us that way for a while. Dancing at night gave her the days free to take me to school or whatever. The nights she couldn’t find someone to watch me, she’d take me with her.”
